


Peach Season

by KatStratford



Series: Serena Stories [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF
Genre: Age Difference, Chris Evans's crazy family, Established Relationship, F/M, Not-So-Secret Relationship, family holidays, original cat character, relationship freak outs, sappy adorableness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-03
Updated: 2015-06-03
Packaged: 2018-04-02 17:10:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4067923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatStratford/pseuds/KatStratford
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Oh my god, you are banging my brother,” Scott Evans’s voice crowed. In the background, Serena heard Carly and Shanna say, “Jesus, Scott,” and “Did you know you’re in his phone under ‘bae’?” respectively.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Peach Season

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to thank [Sevenfoxes](http://archiveofourown.org/users/sevenfoxes/pseuds/sevenfoxes) for putting up with weeks of me sending her random bits of this crazy story, then betaing it and giving me an idea for an ending.
> 
> I would also like to formally apologize for making my congressperson into a character in a porny RP fic.

Chris usually texted before calling, but it wasn’t weird for him to just call out of the blue. So when his name popped up on her screen, Serena didn’t hesitate to answer with, “Yeah, what’s up?” 

It was a mistake.

“Oh my god, you _are_ banging my brother,” Scott Evans’s voice crowed. In the background, Serena heard Carly and Shanna say, “ _Jesus_ , Scott,” and “Did you know you’re in his phone under ‘bae’?” respectively.

Serena felt her breathing go shallow. Her skin got hot and her heart felt stuck in her throat, all of her other vital organs crammed up right behind it. She was not ready for this. 

She and Chris hadn’t talked about telling their families that they were... _involved_? (Sure, "involved" worked.) Shit, she and Chris barely talked about it among themselves, let alone chatted about sharing their relationship status with friends or family. She knew Chris told his Mom and siblings everything, but she’d assumed he’d mention telling them about their...involvement with _her_ first.

“I. Uh,” she responded eloquently, at a complete loss for words. Even if she hadn’t felt like the rug had been pulled out from under her, she didn’t think she she’d know what to say. She felt lightheaded, so she put her head down between her knees, taking deep, shaky breaths. She knew that was for nausea not fainting, but she couldn’t think of anything else to do.

“Give me the phone, Scott.” 

That was Carly. Serena could hear the Mom Voice loud and clear through the phone. “Hi, Serena,” she said kindly. “Chris is sleeping off what is probably an epic hangover and Scott was too nosy to wait to ask him if he was telling the truth last night or just drunkenly bullshitting us.”

“I honestly thought he was trolling,” Scott said, muffled in the background.

Carly sighed. “Anyway. Sorry to have invaded your privacy.”

She sounded like she was going to hang up, so Serena sat up quickly and blurted out, “Hey, wait. What did he say?”

“Oh, boy. I don’t think you want to know?” 

There was the sound of a scuffle for the phone. The next voice she heard was Shanna’s. “Without going into too much detail, he waxed poetic about your posterior.”

“He said your ass was like a round, ripe peach,” Scott yelled. There was another scuffle and yelping noise from Scott as someone dropped the phone then picked it up again.

Shanna sighed, sounding a little irritated. “There was more, mostly about how you just _get him, you know?_ ” she said with her best drunk-brother intonation. “Oh, and he said your hair smells nice.”

“I’m gonna murder him.” It came out before she could catch herself, though she didn’t much care.

“Please don’t,” Shanna said. “This is really our fault. Well, Scott’s fault. He’s the one who ordered shots.”

A horrifying thought occurred to Serena. She took a deep breath before tightening her grip on the phone and attempting to prepare for an answer she didn’t want to hear. “Please tell me it was just the four of you,” she said with a hysterical edge to her voice.

There was a long pause, then Shanna said, “Uh, yeah, our mom was there too.”

Serena hit “end call” and screamed as loud as she could.

***

Chris woke up with dry-mouth and a dull throbbing in his head, but all things considered, it wasn’t a bad hangover. He’d remembered to drink a bunch of water before bed, which probably helped. So he was feeling pretty pleased with himself until he sat up and memories of the prior night crowded in.

“Ah, fuck,” he said. “Fuckity fuck fuck motherfucker.” He was never going to hear the end of this. “This is why actual, functional adults _plan_ things,” he muttered to himself, pulling on jeans and a t-shirt. “Non-idiots don’t sneak around for months then blurt out every-fucking-thing the minute you hand them a kamikaze shot.” _This is also why your 20-year-old girlfriend is the_ responsible _member of the relationship_ , his brain helpfully added.

He scrubbed a hand over his face and went downstairs to face the music. Literally. Someone, probably Scott, had their phone queued up to start playing “Peaches” by the Presidents of the United States of America as soon as he reached the bottom of the stairs.

“You’re all out of the will,” he muttered, aiming for pissed but hitting whiney instead.

“I’ve seen your will,” Carly replied. “You left everything to the dog who died two years ago.”

Shanna handed him a glass of water and a bottle of Advil. “Thanks,” he grunted. “Hey, can you all do me a favor and not mention this to Rena for a little bit? I want to talk to her first, before the usual Evans inquisition.” 

He wasn’t even sure why he bothered to ask; the guilty looks were neither surprising nor unexpected, though for the first time in a long while, he really wished they’d managed to keep their mouths shut. Though he couldn’t exactly blame them: he’d’ve done the same damn thing.

“You motherfuckers.” Serena had probably already blocked his phone number and started plotting revenge.

“Listen, it’s not our fault your phone’s password is Mom’s birthday,” Scott said at the same time Carly said, “We’re really sorry.”

Chris sat down and shook his head. “She’s gonna murder me.”

***

In theory, Serena was working on memorizing lines for an audition she had the following week. In reality, she was hiding under her duvet consuming an entire bag of Veggie Booty. She didn’t have any photoshoots or appearances coming up and she figured she damn well deserved it in light of the absolute bonehead masquerading as her kind-of secret—but not really secret anymore!—boyfriend. 

Jesus, how were they going to explain this? _Well, we started as friends, then there were feelings, but I was a teenager, so we were all responsible and shit and stopped talking for 6 months. Then we thought we could be friends again. Then the sex happened. So much sex. Then we thought we’d go on actual dates to speed up the process of getting sick of one another. That was 4 months ago, so we clearly don’t have a fucking clue what we’re doing._

Yup, that’d go over well. His mother would love that. Love it.

Her phone dinged.

_How deep is the shit I’m in?_

_Marianas Trench_ , she tapped out on her phone, repressing the urge to yell at the phone as a placeholder for his face.

_Fair. Odds of you coming over for dinner with my fam tonight?_

“That dumbass has some nerve,” Serena muttered. _Not fucking likely, asshole._

_Sorry. I am so so sorry. It’s not as bad as you think?_

_YOU TOLD YOUR MOTHER I HAVE A PEACH ASS._

He had the good grace to wait a few minutes before replying, which gave Serena enough time to shovel half the bag of Booty into her mouth. His mother. His mother, who had spent the better part of Serena’s teenage years helping her hone her skills as a performer, had heard to her son refer to Serena’s ass as being _ripe_.

She was going to fucking murder him.

Her phone dinged again. _Well, don’t take this the wrong way, but I’ve said worse._

_There’s a good way to take that? WTF._

_I’m just saying she barely hears the dumb shit I say anymore! I know I fucked up. I know. What can I do?_

She’d spent the better part of the morning thinking about the grovelling she’d demand the moment he woke up and was soberly aware of his stupid decisions. Mostly though, Serena just wanted to yell at him. Well, that and exploit his connections to his fantastically hot co-stars. _I want Idris Elba to DJ my birthday party._

_Done. Anything else?_

_Blowjob embargo._

_...how long?_

_Haven’t decided. YOU’RE FUCKING LUCKY I’M EVEN TALKING TO YOU._

_I know I know! I’m so fucking sorry._

Serena sighed. She’d been thinking about it, and really, it wasn’t like there was any way their announcement was ever going to go well. And this way at least she hadn’t been there to see the disbelief and possible horror of the Evans family when they realized Chris wasn’t kidding about dating someone who wasn’t old enough to legally drink.

_Scared to ask, but how’d your mom take it?_

_Wellllll my memory’s hazy?_

_That bad?_ Serena cringed over her screen. She was tapping out another question she didn’t particularly want to know the answer to ( _is she angry at me?_ ) when her phone started belting out _Shake it Off_ , the photo she’d taken of Chris asleep on her couch lighting up the screen.

“Yeah, I need you to hear tone of voice for this,” he said as she picked up, not waiting for her to speak. “There was a lot of ‘I raised you better than this!’ but she was laughing? But I’m not sure yet if it was genuine laughter or ‘I’m not allowed to kill you in public’ laughter.”

“How about today?”

“Um, I might have hidden in my room until she and my sisters went out shopping?”

“Ugh, coward. I am so mad at you. Like, I want to throw things. At you.”

“And I will let you! You just have to bail me out tonight. Mom thinks you’re great. She wouldn’t murder me for thinking you’re great too, right?”

“She _might_ murder me.”

“No. Noooooo. Absolutely not. I’m the idiot here, as usual.”

“Are you saying you’re an idiot for being with me?” She knew he wasn’t, but emotional torture seemed like a completely appropriate approach to her existence right now.

“Serena!” he laugh-whined. “Stop! I’m getting enough shit from my siblings right now.”

“All of it well-deserved! A PEACH? Really?”

“Jesus, those assholes. Listen, you know your evil cat?”

“For the last time: she’s not evil just because she’s a cat!” She was kind of evil, but Serena wasn’t going to admit that to Chris, especially when the cat’s ability to sneak up on Chris and scare the shit out of him was so hysterical. “Not everyone loves dogs, okay?”

“All right-thinking people love dogs. But whatever. I’ll watch that furry beast while you’re in New York next week. She can stay with me and everything. Just come over tonight and be charming and remind them that you’re an adult and not the little kid they remember, okay?” 

“Okay,” she said, shoving another handful of Booty into her mouth and feeling exactly like a little kid.

***

Chris’s mom was in the kitchen when he finally worked up the balls to go back downstairs. “Hi, Ma,” he said brightly, kissing her on the cheek as she leaned over the sink, peeling an orange..

“Christopher,” she responded. Uh oh, full name. No middle name though. This might be a salvageable situation.

“Yes?” he said. Chris was not the brightest bulb in the box, but he knew better than to open his mouth and give his mother any ammo before she even got going.

“Christopher, I have known Serena Simmons since she was twelve years old.”

“I know, Ma.” Serena had been a student in the youth theater his mother managed until she booked her first cable series at 17, got her GED, and moved to LA. Knowing she was alone in the city, his Ma had called him and asked him to check in on her. Just to make sure she wasn’t overwhelmed or being jerked around by the sort of lowlifes that loved to take advantage of the city’s young actresses. 

He had, predictably, fucked it up.

“When I met her, she had braces.”

“I know, Ma.”

“I have watched her grow into a confident, responsible, vibrant young woman.” Vibrant? His mom had definitely rehearsed this speech.

“I know, Ma. She really is.” He wanted to tell her that he wasn’t having a midlife crisis, that Serena wasn’t a way to recapture his twenties (which had been mostly an unhappy blur anyway). Serena was, in fact, way better at being an adult than he had ever been. She was well-read and compassion. She was rarely late and remembered people’s names. She always had gum and kleenex in her purse. Chris was ass-over-teakettle for her, but the feeling was still so new and overwhelming. It was fragile in a way that made him feel like saying anything out loud might break it. 

His mother sighed. “You are my son and I love you, but if you break her heart, l will tell her mother where you live.” 

“I got it, Mom.”

“Okay, well.” His mom took a deep breath and gave him a searching look. “You really like her?”

“I really do.”

“She’s very young.”

“I am aware of that. We’ve talked about it. A lot.” Serena, in fact, thought it was hilarious to remind him that when he lost his virginity, she was in preschool. 

“I’m just saying, because you’ve been talking about wanting kids, and if you knock her up…”

“Oh my god! Ma, no! No. No, no way. I don’t want kids _now_. And her mother would murder me! ”

“She really would.” Hillary Snow-Simmons had gotten pregnant with Serena when she was 21. Serena had drunkenly told him one night about the birth control lecture that her mother had given her before she’d left for Hollywood, which had apparently put her gyno to shame. Chris also knew that even now, after two years, Hillary still started every conversation with Serena with, “You’re not pregnant, right?”

“My plan is basically to date her for as long as it take her to realize how much better she can do,” Chris explained patiently. He was neurotic and needy and _old_. He had no illusions about how long this was probably going to last and exactly how it was going to end. But he’d stick around until she kicked him to the curb and then hopefully stay friends with her, because he could no longer imagine his life without her in it.

“Oh, Christopher,” his mother said, face softening. “Don’t sell yourself so short.” She paused. “I’m not saying she won’t leave you for someone more age appropriate, though. That could happen.”

Chris sighed. “I know, Mom. Thanks for the reminder! She’s coming over for dinner, by the way.”

“Oh, good,” she said, patting his hand, getting orange juice all over it. “It’ll be lovely to see her.”

***

“Hi, Mom!” Serena said in her most cheerful voice. She figured she might as well rip off all the band-aids today. The likelihood of her mom talking to Mrs. Evans was slim, but if her mother heard the news from anyone but Serena? Jesus. She’d disown her. No, worse: she’d drive out to LA and move in.

“Oh, lord,” her mother replied. “Are you pregnant?”

“No, Mom” Serena replied patiently. “I’m not pregnant. I didn’t elope in Vegas. I’m not on drugs. I haven’t dropped out of college to join a punk rock band.”

Her mother, who had dropped out of college to join a punk rock band, said, “Funny.”

Serena continued. “I’m not addicted to shopping, or hoarding, or eating sofa cushions, or anything else that could land me on a TLC reality show. I haven’t joined a cult. I don’t need money and I haven’t robbed any banks.”

Her mother was laughing. “Spit it out, Serena.”

“I’m dating Chris. You know… Evans. Chris Evans. I’m dating him,” Serena blurted out. It was, she realized, the first time she’d used the word ‘dating’ in relation to Chris. Usually she said ‘hanging out’ or ‘hooking up with,’ but her mother would see right through that bullshit. Serena wouldn’t call her about some one-week wonder. 

“Oh.” Her mother sounded genuinely surprised. “Wow. I thought maybe you were seeing someone, but that is. Huh.” The silence made Serena’s stomach do backflips. “Well you’re right,” her mother finally said. “That’s not even really on the list of terrible things I was worried about happening to you in Los Angeles.” It wasn’t particularly enthusiastic, but given that her mom’s default parental setting was “pit bull,” she might as well have just given her blessing for a marriage.

“Tell him that if he hurts you, though, I’ll put a fork in his eye.” That sounded more like the woman who’d told Serena’s first boyfriend she’d skin him and wear him as a cape if he endangered Serena in any way.

“Not if Lisa gets to him first,” Serena half-joked.

“Ooooh, yeah. I should call her to talk this over.” Sweet Jesus. Lisa loved her mother. The idea of the two of them joining forces to meddle in Serena and Chris’s lives was enough to make Serena feel faint for the third time that day.

***

Serena arrived at Chris’s house promptly at six, a cold bottle of sparkling cider in her hand.

Chris said, “You know my brother’s just gonna add vodka to this, right?”

“Well, then I will be unable to partake, since alcohol is illegal for youths under 21,” she said primly.

“Funny,” Chris said. He wrapped his arms around her for a long hug, then said, “Come on. Let’s get this over with.”

Scott kissed her cheek and said, “I’m supposed to tell you I’m really sorry for calling you this morning.”

Behind him Carly sighed loudly and said, “Hi, Serena.”

Dinner was burgers and potato salad served on the deck in the backyard, and it was just as awkward as Serena had feared. Lots of long gaps in conversation, cleared throats, and sidelong glances, until Shanna finally said, “OK, look. I have to ask. Serena, you know the song _Can’t Touch This_?”

“I...yes?” Serena said, struck dumb by how much that was not the question she was expecting. “The MC Hammer song?”

“Yes!” Shanna said. “Do you, by any chance, know all the words to it?”

“Mmm, I don’t think so.” Next to her, Chris put his face in his hands.

“Chris does!” Shanna said triumphantly. “I’m sorry,” she said to Chris, not sounding sorry at all. “I just realized how much embarrassing shit about you I can tell her about things that happened _before she was even born_.”

“Motherfucker,” Chris muttered.

“Language, Christopher,” his mother said. “We’re at the dinner table, for god’s sake.”

“I know all the words to _Jump Around_ by House of Pain,” Serena admitted. “My mom thought it would be funny to teach them to me when I was in preschool.”

“Oh my god,” Chris said, face still in his hands. “I was in _fifth grade_ when that song came out.”

Scott, meanwhile, reached across the table to high-five Serena while rapping, “Word to your moms/ I came to drop bombs/ Got more rhymes than the bible’s got Psalms.”

Everyone laughed, even Carly, who’d looked the most grim over her meal. It was this grimness that led to the lack of surprise a few minutes later when she gave Serena a piercing look and said, “So seriously, what do you two talk about?”

“Carls!” Chris said, scandalized and clearly upset. “Come on, what the fu...heck. Sorry, Ma. We have the same job. We live in the same city. We’re from the same city.”

Serena, as deadpan as she could possibly be, added, “We both love soup. And snow peas. And the outdoors.”

Shanna’s mouth dropped open. Lisa gave a completely undignified snort from behind her hand. And Scott threw his hands up in the air and announced, “Shut it down! It’s a _Best in Show_ quote. Shut it down, Serena wins. Also, way to be a judgey asshole, Carly, but it was kinda worth it for that response.”

“I was not being judgey! I am genuinely interested!” Carly yelled back, and from there dinner devolved into the usual shout-fest between Evanses. Serena was spectacularly relieved.

***

Chris loved his family and knew that he would miss them like a limb as soon as they were gone, but he was also more than happy to put them all on a plane back to Boston two days later. He dropped them off at the airport and drove straight to Serena’s house. She was flying to New York the next day for a week-long junket for her first big action movie (a late-summer release involving time-traveling zombie pirates) and he had some groveling to do. 

He walked in and a streak of black immediately flew past his face. “Jesus Christ!”

“Princess Consuela Bananahammock, DFA is happy to see you!” Serena called from the kitchen. “I told her she’s going to your house and she’s super excited to claw the shit out of your expensive couch.”

Chris groaned. “Is it too late to convince you that when I said I’d take care of your kitty, I meant going down on you?”

“Ha, nice try! I put her bowls and food in that box there and her litter box is next to it. It’s clumping litter, so you just scoop it at the end of the day.”

“Gross.”

“Yeah, way grosser than picking up dog shit,” she replied, rolling her eyes. “Just try not to kill my cat, okay?” Her voice was brittle. Chris looked her over a little closer, noticing the tightness in her back and the flat line of her mouth.

“You nervous?” He asked.

“No,” she replied, too quick and sharp to be telling the truth. “Just not looking forward to three thousand questions about my diet.”

“Hey, sometimes they also ask about your costume!”

“Ugh. Okay. Here’s my mantra: _Your job does not involve photocopiers, three-hole punches, or content management systems. Suck it up._ ”

“That’s a good one.”

“Yeah, that summer Mom made me intern in the Somerville town hall was really motivating.”

Chris walked over and wrapped Serena up in a hug. “What’d your mom say?” she asked, muffled against his chest, and he belatedly realized that her tension wasn’t about the junket at all.

“About you? That you’re smart and mature. About me? Slightly less complimentary stuff.”

“Is she mad at you? Or me?”

“What? No. Listen, my mom’s seen me fuck up a lot of shit.” Serena snorted against his chest. “This is not any of that. She knows you, which helps a lot. Plus she told me she’d slap the shit out of me if she ever gets the impression that I’m taking advantage of you.”

“Our moms are so violent.”

“Well, violence is how Massholes show love.”

Serena chuckled then pulled back in his arms to look up at him. She took a deep breath and said, “I just. I feel like someone should be mad at us, you know? We got together all ass-backwards, and I kept thinking, _oh, it’s fine. It’s just sex, it’s just casual, we’re just getting it out of our systems_. But then you told your family about my ass and now you’re cat-sitting for me. And I’m kind of freaking out.”

Chris felt his stomach twist, because he hadn’t thought it was casual, but like an idiot he hadn’t exactly mentioned that to Serena. And that was entirely on him for assuming they were on the same page but not manning-up and talking to her about it.

And now here she was sounding awfully unready for the type of relationship he’d been taking for granted. “Maybe,” he started hesitantly before letting his voice trail off.

She set her jaw. “If you say maybe we should take a break, I’ll kick you in the nuts.”

He sighed with more relief than he’d ever admit to. “Okay, so how can I help you stop freaking out?” He probably should have led with that. One of the reasons he was so keen on living in the moment was because he had so many past moments where he fucked up entirely.

She frowned and shook her head. “I don’t know.” She looked him in the eye. “I _really_ like you.”

He nodded eagerly. “Same, same.” He watched her frown deepen with concern. “Is that...bad?”

“No?” she replied uncertainly. “I just don’t think I’ve ever been this stupid over anyone and it actually feels way shittier than I thought it would?”

He snorted before he could help it. “You really know how to sweet-talk a guy, Serena Simmons.”

She threw up her hands. “I don’t know any other way to say it! I see you or someone mentions you and I get lightheaded and feel like I’m gonna puke. No one told me that relationships are basically one long panic attack.”

“Well, I could’ve told you if you asked,” he teased. “Is it really that bad?”

She sighed and scowled. “I’m sorry. This is my issue. I shouldn’t be dumping it on you.”

He kissed her forehead. “Your issues are my issues,” he said, thinking, _nailed it_ , but she stiffened up again.

“See,” she said, “that’s just it. I can barely deal with myself. I’m entirely sure that, no matter how much I like you, I’m gonna screw up.”

Chris shrugged. “Yeah, you are, Miss Overachiever. I’m kinda excited to be here for it, actually.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

Oh man, he’d forgotten that the quickest way to get Serena pissed was to agree that she might be an imperfect human. “If it makes you feel any better, I’ll probably fuck up first!” he added cheerfully.

“I just feel like if we could get, like, a fight or something out of the way, I’d feel less panicky.”

“Okay, so you should spend the holidays with me,” he blurted.

Serena’s face twisted into something decidedly confused. “All right, hang on, I just need to get something out of the way: we’re in a relationship, aren’t we? We aren’t just eating takeout, watching bad movies, and fucking?”

“Yeah. I mean, yes, relationship. Which is exactly why you should come home with me for Thanksgiving. Family holidays are the best practice for all the crazy bullshit you’ll have to put up with from me.”

“Oh, well, when you put it like that!”

He hugged her again. “Listen, I’m not going to put any pressure on you to make an announcement in fucking People magazine or anything. But I want to be with you. And I want the important people in our lives to know I’m with you. And, yeah, it’s a pain in the ass. But crazy, annoying shit is gonna come up, so shouldn’t we at least get to _choose_ our first crisis together?”

“That was the weirdest fucking pep talk ever.”

“No, that was the one where I talked you out of getting a boob job.”

“Oh, Christ, you’re right.” She yawned widely.

“You sleep at all last night?”

“No. I was all wound up. Shocker.”

He kissed her forehead and said, “Wanna take a nap together before you leave?”

She sighed happily. “That sounds really nice, yeah.”

She held his hand as they walked to her bedroom and Chris smiled to himself. Serena prided herself on not being clingy, on not needing anyone. So everytime she held his hand, or rested her head on his shoulder, or called him at two a.m., he knew what it meant, even if she hadn’t quite figured it out yet.

They stripped to their underwear and settled into bed, Serena nestling in against his side as he lay on his back. She fell asleep immediately, but he stared at the pictures on her walls, specifically the one of her parents on their wedding day, six-month-old Serena asleep in her mother’s arms. The Hillary in the picture was almost the same age as Serena now, and the family resemblance was striking.

Chris thought about how when he came to Los Angeles, his only goal was to not have to move back to Sudbury. He loved it there, but at 18, the urge to run as far away as he could had been all-consuming. Hillary Snow’s life had been nailed down by the time she was 22. Maybe Serena thought she needed to run from the same fate.

He drifted off and woke up when Serena’s elbow poked him as she stirred to itch her nose. Chris ran his hand up and down her back in sweeping curves to keep her from falling back asleep. She hummed contentedly. 

“Hey,” he said, kissing her hair. “I need you.” It wasn’t exactly what he wanted to say, but it was a start.

“You got me,” she said with a yawn. “M’still sleepy, though.”

He chuckled. “S’okay.” He hooked his fingers in her panties, pushing them down. “C’mere.”

She shifted to face him and they kissed lazily while he ran his hands over her body. This was the only time she was sweet with him, her prickliness left on the floor with her clothes. He loved making her laugh, but making her sigh and say, _Do that again, please_ , was even better.

He reached down and got two handfuls of her ass. It really was a great ass, well-curved and yielding, perfect for grabbing.

Serena bit his neck and said, “You got a one track mind, Evans.”

“Yeah, but it’s a _good_ track,” he replied, sliding his hand around to her stomach and tickling her until she slapped his shoulder. He kissed along her neck and collarbone in apology and shifted his hand down until she moved to give him room to slide his fingers between her legs.

When they’d started sleeping together, Serena had told him that she didn’t come very often. Chris wasn’t the kind of guy who thought his dick could magically make a girl orgasm (well, he wasn’t that kind of guy _anymore_ , at least), so he’d taken her at her word. 

Except it turned out that Serena was determined to be as impatient in bed as she was out of it. The first few times they’d fucked, she’d hurried him along and he’d been too overwhelmed with the taste of her to protest. She’d insisted it had been fine, but he’d felt selfish and sour about how she seemed to want him so desperately, but wanted to get the actual act of fucking over as quickly as possible. He wondered if maybe she’d just never had anyone take their time with her.

So one day he’d turned off their phones, peeled off her clothes and said with conviction, “Rena, I’m gonna worship you.” Then he’d kissed every inch of her skin, suckled at her breasts and licked the crease of her hips. He’d touched her everywhere but her cunt until she stopped saying, “Get on with it,” and instead breathed deep and shaky, her hands slowly stroking through his hair.

Then he’d gone down on her until she begged. He’d pushed into her with three fingers and carefully crooked and pressed them until she cried (which, it turned out, was a thing she did during sex sometimes, and it was a good thing he’d reconciled himself to thinking of some fucked up shit as hot, because _jesus_ ). By the time he made her come with his dick inside her and a thumb on her clit, she’d been sweaty, wrecked and gorgeous.

She still tried to hurry him, pressing him to get down to fucking her already, but he knew better now. It was part of the reason he liked her best like this, sleepy and docile, before the noisy hum of her brain took over. 

She sighed and gently rolled her hips as he touched her cunt. His dick was hard against her soft belly, but he was content to play at the warm flesh between Serena’s legs until he felt her grow wet and swollen against his fingertips.

“What do you want, Rena?” he whispered in her ear, just to watch her shiver.

“You,” she replied softly and he smiled. 

“Yeah?” he said. “You know what I want? I want to walk around with my arm around your waist. I want to pull you onto my lap at a party and kiss you in front of everyone there. I wanna be _yours_.” Serena was pushing her hips down onto his fingers, her breathing ragged. “Is that what you want?” he asked.

“Yes,” she breathed. “Yeah, please.”

“You gonna be my girl?” he teased, reaching down and pushing his boxers out of the way, then lifting her leg up over his hip so that he could slip inside her, thrusting shallow and deliberate. “Tell everyone I drink out of the orange juice carton and give you beard burn on your thighs?”

She giggled and wrapped her arms around him. “Tell them you sing in your sleep,” she said warmly as they moved together. “And you let me call you daddy.”

He flipped her onto her back, laughing. “Don’t tell them that!”

She shook her head, lovely neck bared to him. “I don’t want to tell anyone anything. I want to keep you all to myself.”

“Yeah, that’s fine too,” he said, higher brain function beginning to haze over as her heat and sounds and scent took him over. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, and Chris reached down to stroke her until she shuddered against him and cried out, rough yelps that she said she hated, so Chris made it his mission to make sure she felt so good she didn’t even hear herself.

He mouthed at her neck and tilted her hips to push deeper into her body. She arched her back and gasped, “Fuck, that feels amazing,” and that was it for him. He grabbed her ass to ground himself and came, hips jerking hard against her.

She touched his face gently as he caught his breath. “I’m gonna miss you next week,” she said and he grinned. 

They were gonna be fine.

***

Halfway through the junket, just about when Serena was considering “accidentally” spilling coffee on the next “journalist” who asked how she got her ass so big, a small package was delivered to her hotel room. It was a necklace she was going to buy for herself for her birthday, a bib of brass-dipped porcupine quills. “So I can stab the next motherfucker who cat-calls me,” she’d told Chris.

She wore it on _Kelly & Michael_ the next day. _It looks great_ was the text waiting for her in the green room when she finished.

_Thank you, baby,_ she replied.

_I wanted to send you something nice. So it was that or a dick pic._ Serena laughed so hard she frightened the psychic parrot who was going on after her.

She called him the next night. “Can I stay at your house on Thanksgiving? I don’t want to drive from Sudbury to Somerville,” she asked as soon as he picked up.

“You kidding? You’ll be 21 by Thanksgiving. Scott’s gonna make sure you can’t drive. You tell your mom?”

“Yeah. She’s a little pissed that I’m bailing when I finally have a successful movie and my grandparents can’t ask when I’m going to college anymore.”

“Hate to break it to you, but I still get that question.”

They quickly realized their schedules didn’t let them fly out together, but they could head back to LA together. “Want me to book all the tickets?” Chris asked.

“Yeah,” Serena said, tapping at the sharp ends of the necklace to distract herself from the almost overwhelming urge to tell him she could book her own plane tickets, thank you very much.

***

The damn cat grew on him. She spent the first night yowling and biting at his feet until Chris picked her up and looked her in the eye. “Listen,” he said. “I don’t like you and you don’t like me, but we both love Serena, _right_?” He wasn’t sure hellspawn actually experienced emotion, but he was willing to pretend.. “So fucking chill before I leave you out for the coyotes.” There were no coyotes, but cats also didn’t speak english, so he figured the lie wasn’t a huge deal.

After that, the little black ball of evil decided she was his best friend. She curled up sedately at his hip as he read and let him pet her head without trying to take off a finger. By the morning he woke up to find her perched on his chest, one paw stretching up to boop his nose, he knew he was done for.

He was in the kitchen with Princess Consuela Bananahammock (Jesus, the poor thing needed a nickname) seated delicately on his shoulder when he heard Serena’s key in the door. He looked at the cat. The cat looked back and made no move to jump off of him.

“I hope Princess Consuela Bananahammock, Esquire, didn’t kill you and eat your body,” Serena called from the entryway. “I’d be really sad, but I’d steal that bedroom set of yours in a hot minute.”

“Sorry to disappoint, but we’re in the kitchen,” he called back.

“‘We?’” she said coming into the kitchen. “Oh my god. Princess Consuela Bananahammock, D-MA, you aren’t even trying to bite him!” She rounded on Chris. “What did you do to my cat?”

Chris sighed loudly and said, “Princess Consuela Bananahammock, of the Most Ancient and Honorable Bananahammocks, and I have negotiated a truce. In exchange for unlimited pets and tuna fish, she has pledged her loyalty to me.”

Serena walked over and plucked the protesting cat from Chris’s shoulder. “You little shitball,” she said to it affectionately. “I put up with your furry ass for three years and you roll over for the first person who gives you canned fish.”

Chris smiled. “She’s welcome here anytime.”

Serena kissed him and said, “Stop being so perfect.”

“Well, I’m bingeing on protein shakes right now, so I’ll probably drive you out of the room with my farting this evening.”

“Jesus Christ! I’m taking my cat and going home,” she said with a laugh.

“It’s just the glamorous life of a movie star.”

***

The Evans household bustled on a normal day; today it was bursting. Serena counted five kids, two dogs, fourteen adults, and an indeterminate number of goldfish (“They die so quickly that Carly has to pick up extras every week at the pet shop next to the Sudbury Farms,” Chris told her).

When Serena arrived for Thanksgiving with a bottle of prosecco (“Legally purchased!” she crowed), Lisa was so busy that she only had time to take the bottle and give Serena a kiss on the cheek before disappearing back into the kitchen. Shanna and Scott were arguing about which Muppet Movie was the best, Carly was in the kitchen with her mother, and Carly’s husband and Chris were deep in conversation about the weaknesses in the Patriots’ offensive line. 

So Serena flopped down on the floor with Carly’s kids and played Candyland. Serena had forgotten that the damn game took forever. She and the small children got bored halfway through and started adding their own rules. “Shake your butt when you land on purple,” said Miles. “Switch socks with the person next to you on yellow,” Serena added. “Sing a song when you get a double red,” announced Jeff. 

Serena won major points when she used her double red to sing, “Jingle bells, Batman smells.” She was pretty sure that if she could just hang out with the kids for the whole night, she’d have a great time.

Alas, she was sitting at the adult table. “We actually thought of having you, me, and Scott at the kids table,” Shanna confided. “But Carly is no fun.”

“I’m not no fun,” Carly yelled from the kitchen. “You’re just terrible influences on my children.”

Serena was seated next to Chris and across from his uncle Mike, who Serena knew only as Representative Capuano, her US congressperson. “Uncle Mike, Serena’s from Somerville,” Chris said.

“Are you registered to vote there?” he asked her.

“Yes, sir,” she replied cheerfully, remembering the little lawn sign her mother stuck in their lawn with his face on it. “I voted for you in the last election. You were mayor when I was born, after all.”

Chris’s uncle paled. “Jesus, kid,” he said. “I’ve got belts older than you.” He turned to Chris. “You’re dating this young lady?”

“Improbably, yes,” Chris said with his best charming smile, delightfully avoiding the implication about Serena’s age.

“Hmm. Well, at least she’s a democrat.” He addressed her again. “You’re an actress?” When she answered yes, Uncle Mike asked if she’d been in anything he’d seen (“Probably not”) then asked, “Do you want to be a superhero like him?” gesturing at Chris with his fork.

“It would be nice! Since I’ve been in LA, I’ve auditioned for Wonder Woman, Harley Quinn, Sue Storm, and Jean Grey.” (Reasons given for passing on her: too young, boobs too small, too tall, and the girl from _Game of Thrones_ had better name recognition, respectively.)

Uncle Mike addressed Chris again. “Can you not get your a girlfriend a job? All your other buddies work for Marvel now.”

“I’m trying, Uncle Mike. Marvel kinda thinks girls have cooties.”

“I’ve noticed. Christ, what a sausage-fest that last movie was.”

Thankfully, Serena’s age didn’t come up again at dinner. Chris rested his hand on her back without comment from the Evans siblings as a dozen gigantic pies came out of the kitchen. She thought she was out of the woods. 

She was so, so wrong.

“Hi!” Scott yelled loudly over the din as everyone haggled for a piece of their favorite pie. “Excuse me! Shanna and I have some after-dinner entertainment for everyone.”

Carly leaned over and called down to Chris and Serena, “I would like you two to know that I had nothing to do with this,” which was Serena’s first indication of exactly how much trouble she was in.

“I believe by now all of you have met my older brother’s new girlfriend, Serena.” Scott gestured towards her and 14 heads turned towards her as the kids’ table yelled, “Hi, Serena!”

“You may have noticed that Serena is a little bit younger than Chris! In fact, in case you didn’t know, Chris gave a speech about professional acting at Mom’s youth theater when Serena was a 12-year-old student there!” Fourteen sets of eyebrows rose in Chris’s direction and Serena’s spine went rigid.

“Thanks, you asshole,” Chris muttered.

“But that’s totally okay, because Serena is an adult and Chris is...yeah, we can go with adult for him too.” Okay, that was a good line; Serena laughed. “And we all love Serena, so it’s not surprising that Chris does too, although I’m pretty sure this is not what Mom meant when she asked him to keep an eye on her in LA.” 

The table ‘ooooooh’d.

“With that in mind,” Scott continued. “Shanna and I thought it would be good to remind everyone that, in the grand scheme of things, Chris and Serena are far from the most inappropriate relationship out there!”

“Oh no,” Serena moaned in horror as Shanna flicked off the lights and turned on the computer’s projector. _It’s Really Not That Bad: Couples Creepier Than Chris and Serena_ lit up the far wall.

It started with Kylie Jenner and Tyga. Serena’s jaw dropped and Chris buried his face in his hands. He didn’t look back up, but Serena was too mortified to look away. Anna Nicole Smith and her ancient billionaire husband were next. Then Edgar Allan Poe and his 13-year-old cousin, Jerry Lee Lewis and his 13-year-old cousin, The Phantom of the Opera and Christine (which got a laugh), Oedipus and his mother (which got a big laugh) and finally Woody Allen and Soon-Yi (which got a resounding _Euuugh_ ).

“See?” Scott yelled as the lights went back up and the room burst into noise again. He flicked his finger back and forth between Serena and Chris. “You’re all feeling a lot better about what’s going on over there aren’t you?”

There was a generally positive noise, though not loud enough to cover his mother yelling, “What is WRONG with you, Scott?”

With dessert and the show finished, the family retired to the living room where, after all that, Serena felt perfectly justified tucking herself under Chris’s arm and drinking most of the bottle of prosecco she’d brought.

***

Serena eyed the double bed, with its plain headboard and worn navy comforter, and said, "I'm not having sex with you in that bed, you know that right?"

"Wow, way to give me flashbacks to high school. You wanna add a big sigh and an, 'Oh all right, I guess so'? Because then I can relive the night I lost my virginity," Chris replied, dropping Serena’s overnight bag near the closet.

"Are you trying to get a current pity fuck by invoking a past pity fuck?"

"Well when you say it like that, it sounds pathetic." He walked over and picked her up, swinging her in a circle and saying, “Hello. I don’t think I ever said that to you today.”

"I have no idea what _anyone_ said to me today! Oh my god, I can’t believe we survived," Serena said with a slightly hysterical laugh.

"And now you know how I feel after Thanksgiving. Every. Year." Chris grabbed his pajama pants and started changing.

"Should you do that in the bathroom or something?" Serena asked. Everything had worked out, but she still felt a little awkward about being in Lisa Evans’s house as Chris’s girlfriend.

He cocked an eyebrow. "You don't think you'll be able to resist my intoxicating masculinity?"

"You are so freaking weird." She picked up her own pjs.

They settled into bed, shoulders and hips touching. Chris turned to kiss Serena's cheek. "That's okay, right?" he teased.

"Yes, dear," she replied. "You are allowed to get to first base."

"Oh wooooooow." He laughed. "That takes me back. God, it's weird to think that at one point touching a girl's boobs was the biggest accomplishment I could imagine."

Serena turned and threw her arm over his chest. She raised her head to look up at him. "Was it everything you'd dreamed about when it finally happened?"

"Absolutely," he said dreamily. "I mean, uh, you know. It was pleasant. I respected her a lot. Shit, what's the right answer?"

"Anything other than, 'Oh. That's it?' which is what I got."

"No! Holy shit. I want to go back in time and kick that dude's ass." Chris shifted onto his side to face her. She noticed he also slid his fingers under the bottom of her tank top, but didn't comment on it.

"Well, it prepared me well for Hollywood, at least," she said, shifting her hips fractionally closer to his. She had heard this was the sort of thing people sometimes did in their childhood bedrooms.

"Hmm," he said. "Well, I had zero game back then, but I wouldn't have said that if you'd taken your shirt off for me." He ducked his head and mouthed at her neck.

"What did you say to your girl?"

He chuckled against her skin and she shivered. "I'm pretty sure I said, _Thank you._ "

Serena giggled. "Did she say it back?" she asked, petting the short hairs at the back of his neck and inhaling the scent of the two of them together as their bodies grew warm against each other. She knew they were surrounded by a house full of gossipy Evanses, but wrapped up in the sheets and dark, she felt herself drifting into the sweet contentment she felt whenever it was just her and Chris.

"I have no idea. Probably not. I mean, I probably didn't do anything for her."

"I bet that's not true," Serena purred. "I bet she went home that night and put her hand between her legs and thought about you while she rubbed herself off."

Chris chuckled and bit at Serena’s bottom lip. "Probably not, but that's a nice picture. Is that what you used to do?"

"Yeah," Serena breathed. "If you wanna play with my tits a little, I might even give you a demonstration."

"Yes, ma'am," he said. He moved his hands up under her shirt and laughed quietly. "Shit, now I want this to be really good for you."

"See, that's what a girl wants to hear," Serena laughed back. "Do anything other than pinch my nipples twice and ask if there's anything else to it and you should be fine."

"Jesus, no wonder you think I'm impressive." He rested his palms over her breasts and gently pressed at them.

"No," she sighed as he dragged his hands down and began massaging her flesh with his fingertips. "You really are, but don’t tell your ego that. Oh." He pulled his fingertips together then spread them again, then repeated the action, a featherlight caress that made her feel like static was crackling through her body. "Yeah. You're impressive."

"Sweet talker," he whispered. "Sweet girl. You gonna put your hand in your panties and show me how sweet you look when you come?"

Serena rolled her body against his and said, "Maybe you should do it. Tell everyone at school you got to third base."

He grabbed her ass with one big hand, pushing her hip forward so he could rut against it. "I don't think I can do that," he grunted. "I wouldn't stop. I couldn’t touch your sweet, wet pussy and not fuck you. And you scream and this mattress squeaks and _jesus_." 

Serena grabbed the hand on her ass and shoved it between her thighs. "We can do it like this," she gasped. "Just." He made a fist and pressed his knuckles up against her pussy through her sweatpants. "Yeah. Just like that."

Chris brought his other hand back up to her breast, slowly stroking his thumb back and forth over her nipple. "That's it," he whispered. "Take it. Get your panties all wet humping my hand and fucking come for me." 

Serena clamped her thighs together, shoved her hips down and did just that, mouth to his chest, desperately muffling her cries against his skin.

"Oh my god," she said as she came down. "What are we doing?"

"Can we not feel weird about it until after I'm done?" he said, taking Serena's hand and putting it on his dick. "I think this is the part where I try to convince you I can die from blue balls."

Serena grinned and squeezed the head of his dick, already slippery with pre-come. "You know I didn't know boys get slick like this? First time I gave a hand job to a guy who got wet like you do, I thought I was doing something wrong."

"Shit, no, you're doing something very, very right," he groaned.

"I hated sucking dick," she murmured. "You know that. But I actually really liked hand jobs. Boys get so desperate so quick. Half the time, all I had to do was hold on and let them fuck my hand." Chris was doing that very thing, gasping wetly against her temple. "Then I could just say something dirty and they'd come all over me."

"So say- say something dirty," Chris slurred.

"Oh, okay," she sighed. "I promise that as soon as we get home you can flip up my skirt and fuck my ass."

"Shit," he hissed, coming over her fingers. When he was done gasping and shaking he added, “That was dirty fucking pool, Serena Simmons.”

“You asked for it!” 

“I did. I did,” he repeated, leaning over to pull open his night table drawer. “Oh, yup. Still got some kleenex in here.”

“Jesus, how often do you jerk off in the bed you grew up in?”

“Yeah, you’re in no position to judge right now. You want a tissue?”

Serena shifted her hips and replied, “Uh, yeah, actually. Uuuugh. We’re the worst.”

“Stop,” he said, turning back and kissing her eyebrow. “Best part of my day. Just don’t look guilty at breakfast tomorrow and we’re golden.”

“Oh my god, we have to go through all that again at breakfast, don’t we?”

“Yeah, don’t worry. Scott makes a wicked boozy bloody mary.”

“Bless him.”

***

They got up and showered - separately and with a minimum of grab-ass and smooching in the bathroom in between. Chris thought they both looked plenty respectable as they walked into the kitchen for breakfast, which was why he was surprised when Carly took one look at him and hissed, “Are you kidding me?”

“What?” he replied as Serena made a beeline for Scott’s bloody mary bar.

“In Mom’s house!” Carly said.

“Carly, you live here! You have sex in Mom’s house all the time!”

“Christopher, I have former students older than her.”

“OK, first of all, you don’t get to ‘Christopher’ me. Secondly, I hate to break it to you, but those former students of yours are adults now, just like Serena. She’s not a kid anymore, and treating her like one is disrespectful to her and to me. I _love_ her. So can I get a drink instead of a lecture, please?”

“Excuse me, I think you just gave the lecture,” Carly said grumpily. She bumped her shoulder against his. “Anyway. I’m happy for you.”

“Really?” he replied, still a little exasperated. “You got a funny way of showing it.”

“Hey, you’re my little brother. It’s my job to give you shit.”

“Well, you’re really good at it. You should get an award or something.”

“Oh, shut up and get me a bloody mary, you jackass.”

***

Serena let herself into Chris’s place without knocking. She’d taken the limo straight from the airport to his house even though it was almost midnight and she was dead-tired from the jet lag. Paris to LA was a killer flight, even when the premiere was important enough that the studio sprang for a private jet. “Rough life, kid,” she muttered to herself, toeing out of her boots.

“In the living room,” Chris called out to her. She found him with the cat sprawled out over his lap and the dog snoring on the couch next to him. They’d chosen the bulldog mix together from animal rescue a few months ago, but Chris had named him. (“Bucky?” Serena had said disbelievingly. “Really?” to which he'd replied, "It’s an excellent sidekick name!”)

Serena looked at her weird little family and threw up her hands. “I was hoping for a welcome home party, you slackers.”

“I thought about it, but Immortan Consuela Bananahammock insisted on harassing Bucky until I had to ground both of them,” Chris said around a yawn.

Serena leaned over and kissed him, then picked up the cat and unceremoniously dumped her on the floor before taking her place on Chris’s lap. “Yay,” she sighed. “One more promotional poledance over with.”

Chris nuzzled the side of her face and replied, “Until you get your supporting actress nomination, that is.”

“You’re delusional,” she said, patting his hand. “I like it.”

They sat in comfortable silence for awhile until Chris took a deep breath and said, “You know, we might be more inclined to throw you welcome home parties if this _was_ your home.”

She smiled. “Was that your half-assed way of asking me to move in?”

He pressed his face into her neck and said, “Why do you always have to call me on these things?”

“Because it would be hella awkward if I showed up with all my shit and that wasn’t what you meant!”

He paused. “Is that a yes?”

“That’s a yes. Dumbass.” 

They were quiet again and Serena felt herself beginning to slip into a contented sleep when Chris said, “Oh yeah, also, Mom wants to know if you’re coming to Thanksgiving again this year.”

“Oh my god, tell her I love her, but no.”

“Thank goodness.”

“My family owns your ass this year.”

Chris groaned. Serena laughed, thinking of the grilling her brother would give Chris. Suddenly, Chris's head snapped up, his eyes mischievous. "So, wait. Does that mean we'll be staying in your old bedroom?" He waggled his eyebrows at her.

Serena tugged at his hair and bit down a grin. "Sure! We can fool around under my Jonas Brothers and Hannah Montana posters."

"Oh, jesus."

**Author's Note:**

> More ridiculousness [here](http://katrinastratford.tumblr.com) at my Tumblr.


End file.
